


Peace (and Presents) on Earth

by IuvenesCor



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, unexpected gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IuvenesCor/pseuds/IuvenesCor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is adjusting very well to her new home-- and the traditions that come with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace (and Presents) on Earth

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this when one of my dearest friends (and a fellow rabid fangirl of Once) and I were texting, and the typo "Rumplestiltskein" was made (as in like a skein of wool)... then I imagined dear Rum sitting in a rocking chair, knitting a gift for someone. And so, the idea spiraled from there, but took a slightly different path...
> 
> [Small reference in this fic to said dear friend's Rumbelle-centric fic "The Last Dance", which can be read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/522571 ]
> 
> Merry Christmas! :D

Belle took a step back from the ladder and smiled. Everything looked absolutely perfect.

The self-appointed proprietor of the Storybrooke library had spent her whole day after lunch preparing her cozy little building for the holiday season. Decorating was upon her list of favorite things to do, combined with celebrating Christmas (not that she’d had much— or any— experience in that department). There was something very fulfilling about hanging wreaths and garlands, about taping paper snowflakes to windows and placing a great big snowglobe on the service desk for all to see. Everything felt so homey whilst it was covered in red and green and scented like pines and gingerbread (thanks to a special snack, complements of Granny). Now, the final strand of garland to grace the bookshelves was fastened into place, and she could see her handiwork as a whole. All she required was a tree for the little glass ornaments that currently sat upon the desk behind her, and everything would be complete.

That thing that could be called “Christmas magic” wasn’t, perhaps, quite as strong as the magic in their land or even now in Storybrooke, but it was something that Belle enjoyed a bit better. If one were to ask her, she would rather have Silver Bells than the golden trinkets that came with royalty, and a sprinkle of snow as opposed to a sprinkle of fairy dust.

With a sigh, she gathered the leftover decorations that lay on the floor and dropped them neatly onto the book cart to be shuttled off into the back of the library. A loose spring of holly, however, she took back from the box and tucked into her hair. She grinned proudly: now she belonged with every other festively themed thing.

Pushing the cart away, Belle hummed to the broadcasted music from the antique radio which she’d found buried in a musty old crate full of things after first opening the library. (As best she could, she had been trying to memorize the carols that played.) The voice crooned of “snow and mistletoe”…and of home. She couldn’t help but think of the places she had once called home— not only their world, but its individual locales that she loved and the people in them. As they came, the words stung a little (“if only in my dreams”), but they didn’t hurt as horribly as she would have thought. Even after all that she had endured— all that everyone had endured— it was easy enough to adjust. Home would be wherever she chose to make it so, even if it turned out to be a typically silent library and a rented room. That was another beautiful thing about this seasonal and so-called magic: it came with an unshakable optimism and a feeling of, as another song she’d learned had put it, comfort and joy.

She parked the decorations at the tiny storage closet’s door. Her tasks done, she decided that the only proper thing to do now was to relax and read a book. There was one, she had been told, that was a classic tale for Christmastime, and she fully intended to sit comfortably on her bed with a wonderful glass of iced tea (“Most people don’t like cold drinks in winter,” Ruby had laughed) and a plateful of cookies, losing herself in whatever the narrative had in store.

That being said, she followed the rows of shelves until she found the proper one. Letting her fingers glide along the spines of all the books she laid eyes on, she happily grabbed the desired title, taking in the unique and wonderful scent of the old hardcover. She hugged it close to her chest, anticipating even more comfort and joy in its pages as she sauntered back to the checkout desk.

Belle arrived behind the desk, hand already stretched out for a pen; however, before she could make a single jot in the log book, something caught her eye.

A single brown paper-wrapped parcel sat unassumingly next to the encapsulated scene of the snowglobe. The young woman knew she couldn’t have possibly left it there herself— especially as a folded piece of cardstock lied atop it, inscribed with _Belle ___in simple yet gorgeous cursive.

Intrigued, she set down both book and pen, forsaking them for the little white card. She revealed its inside message— which had been, very plainly: 

_Merry Christmas_

__She stared at it briefly, making doubly sure that her suspicions were cemented…and they were. She knew exactly who it was from, for there was only one person who would slip in and out of the library without the bell ringing cheerily at each movement of the door; the brief yet polite message also seemed to suit her gift-giver well._ _

__Before she gave in to curiosity, she allowed the surprise of the gesture sink in. Christmas was something unheard of in their land; certainly, there were some winter festivals on occasion, but there were no true holidays as they had here. Nonetheless, even if there had been such things, she knew that he wasn’t much for one to celebrate, let alone one who gifted things to others wholly free of charge (which made her temporarily debate with herself about any ulterior motives behind the package.) The closest thing she had ever seen from him was the impromptu ball he once threw— and which he seemed utterly ready to deny._ _

__Things were different here, however, as was he, if but a little. And there was no mistake that when he last happened by to take a book on loan (and had coerced her into a very long and lovely conversation), the glint in his eye at her mention of Christmas-related excitement only meant that the cogs in his mind were spinning, hatching a plan of some sort. So, perhaps this was yet another frivolous peace offering._ _

__Fingernails tracing the seams of the paper, she began to open her first ever Christmas present— and, she didn’t doubt, the most memorable one she’d ever receive._ _

__Underneath the wrapping, a cardboard box was sealed with a single golden ribbon. She picked the package up, trying to weigh it in hopes of surmising what it held. It was surprisingly light, so her assumption of a music or jewelry box was debunked, as was the anticipation of anything she’d yet thought of. A necklace, perhaps? An ornament?_ _

__She slid the band of ribbon off of the box in eagerness. After an anticipatory breath, she closed her eyes and pulled back the flaps. As her eyes opened again, she couldn’t help but bite back a loud gasp._ _

__It was absolutely gorgeous._ _

__Coiled in the center of the box and cushioned by little shreds of tissue paper was a woolen scarf. Under the lights of the library, it was simply stunning: a muted gray with blues and purples woven throughout. Even more impressive was the way it glittered, brought upon it by tiny flecks of gold peeking through the purposefully tangled strands. (Of course— that was with no doubt his special touch.)_ _

__Belle extricated the scarf from its packaging and found herself stroking it tenderly— it had to be one of the softest things she had ever felt. Blissfully, she threw it about her neck, and clutched the fringe as she spun about. Now, she realized, it made very much sense: she’d mentioned the thought of buying a new coat and scarf in front of him before. The coat she had found, but a perfect scarf was hard to attain. And yet… here it was._ _

__She squeezed it for a moment, sighing contentedly with her face pressed against it. As she glanced back up at the box and its wrapping and the card, she reached yet again for the pen, and for anything remotely like stationery. Reading of misers and ghosts and drinking her glass of tea would have to wait for a little while more; she felt that writing a thank-you note would be a more appropriate thing to do. No stationery was in sight, so she resorted to tearing out a page of the log book instead. On that, she would write her thank-you, and perhaps include an invitation for lunch, just so she’d have an excuse to display her gift to him._ _

__Belle held a cheerful smile on her face as she basked in the warmth of the scarf, the echoes of the radio’s carols, and the aura of joy that dwelt in her own little corner of the world._ _

__Christmas’s magic really was the best one of them all._ _

_Fin._


End file.
